


Hindsight

by Mochas N Mayhem (KoohiiCafe)



Series: Way of the Force [8]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:13:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoohiiCafe/pseuds/Mochas%20N%20Mayhem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Foresight and vision was not an unfamiliar gift to Luke, but this vision... he knew immediately it was not of the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hindsight

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Hindsight  
>  **Author:** Koohii CaFe  
>  **Rating:** General Audiences  
>  **Crossover:** BtVS/Star Wars  
>  **Disclaimer:** Since I am a poor chickadee with no wealth to speak of, I think it's safe to say that neither BtVS nor Star Wars are mine. ^^;  
>  **Written for:** [TtH](http://www.tthfanfic.org/) [August Fic A Day Challenge](http://twistedshorts.livejournal.com/438159.html)  
>  **Summary:** _Foresight and vision was not an unfamiliar gift to Luke, but this vision... he knew immediately it was not of the future._  
>  **Author's Note:** Set immediately post 'Bad Girls' for Buffy, and in the future of my [Way of the Force](http://www.tthfanfic.org/Series-2351) series for Luke.

Foresight and vision was not an unfamiliar gift to Luke; they were not his foremost ability in the Force, but his first vision of Cloud City all those years ago had certainly not been the only one he had received since. Yoda, and his own experiences, had taught him to regard visions of the future with careful consideration, but this vision... he knew immediately it was not of the future. If he was correct, as he looked to the very young woman who seemed still oblivious of his presence, this was not even a vision of his own world, but of another, of a life that had occurred a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. Because this young woman before him, younger even than he had been when he first left Tatooine, even now slept in the quarters beside his.

"Buffy," he spoke quietly, attracting her attention. She turned, surprised, but controlled, to see who had entered her dreams. She seemed to take him in slowly, her gaze sweeping over his, to her, unfamiliar visage, and strange clothing, and she cocked an eyebrow at him skeptically.

"And who exactly are you supposed to be, some new messenger here to tell me I have to kill someone else? What, was Whistler too scared to come this time? Cause let me tell you, if you're bringing the same kind of news, I'm not gonna spare you just because you're new." There was a jaded look in her eyes, a hidden layer beneath her tone, that made something inside Luke ache, as surely as the pain that was buried deep inside her did. They'd talked about her past before, about what she'd been through before she came to Dagobah, and he could only guess where she was now, what she was facing that seemed to tear her to pieces within. There were too many things she had faced to know, without knowing more.

"I'm just here to talk, Buffy." His voice was soft, calming, as he tried to project that calm to her. She relaxed only a fraction, visibly resisting the strange calm this supposed stranger sent to her. Her lips twisted into a scowl.

"Stop that- whatever you're doing. That's- creepy, and so very much do not want," she told him, shivering imperceptibly. He recognized the feeling she was clinging to, desperately holding on to without even realizing it; guilt. Something had happened, something that she felt responsible for. Luke nodded his acquiescence and let that calm return to himself once more, having no desire to push her away.

"I only meant to help." He paused, considering her words. Whistler; if he remembered correctly, that had been the name of the man who told her to send her former lover to a hell dimension. She was, then, at least past that point in her life; he struggled to remember what she had faced after that horror. "I'm not a messenger, I'm- a friend. I won't tell you what to do, I promise, I want only to listen, to talk."

"A friend, huh?" There was a hint of bitterness to her tone, suspicion in her eyes as her arms crossed guardedly over her chest. "I've heard that one before. Now _who_ are you?"

"Luke Skywalker," he answered easily. There was a brief flicker of thought that this shouldn't happen this way- Buffy hadn't known of him before Yoda, before Dagobah- but surely this was just a vision. A shared vision, perhaps, but how could a vision of the past change the present? "I'm not from your world, but I've heard of you. I thought you could use a friend."

"Once again, heard the 'friend' thing before. It doesn't always work out." Another echo of pain, more distant this time, an older hurt than what currently plagued her. He nodded.

"I won't force you into anything you don't want. But if you ever want to talk..." He trailed off, an open invitation. He didn't know what had brought on this vision during his meditation, but he would seek it again in the future, if she didn't wish his help now. Part of it was his friendship with Buffy, and part of it- he wanted to see more of this young Buffy, of who she had been long before the Force brought him to find her on Dagobah, and he wanted to try to soothe all she had been through before that time.

"We'll see," she answered, her words still skeptical, but less than they had been, her eyes perhaps a bit less jaded and a little more open. He nodded to her and then, as if knowing that there was nothing more to be said now, the vision began to fade, from the outside in. He watched as his awareness of the physical world began to return, and he could see the guilt come to the fore of her thoughts, filling her gaze as she was left alone. Then he was returned to his body, to his own world and to the present.

His gaze turned to the door that separated his quarters from Buffy's, questions in his mind, but he pushed them aside. Perhaps later, he would pose them to her, probe into her memory and inquire about what he believed had been a shared vision with her younger self. For now, however, he had much to think on.


End file.
